


A Thief's Folly and a Fault of Hearts

by funkyplants



Category: Original Work
Genre: Adult Content, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:13:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27822826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/funkyplants/pseuds/funkyplants
Summary: (original work)Things change, rings get stolen, love flourishes; but not necessarily in the places or ways we want it to.





	1. Rings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hahaha hahaha,,,, the gay throne of glass. that's all this is. gay throne of glass with ocs. there are none of the characters from the series though because that'd be copyright infringement.
> 
> also please ignore the absence of spacing im working on it.

A thief moved as swiftly as one could in the darkness that blanketed the forest that night. They were clothed in the typical attire of servants where they came from -simple tunics and jerkins- though they had not been in that line of work in decades. This was what they had dreamed of since they were a child --the adrenaline and exhilaration that spawned from the chase, the relief of not being caught, the smile that they could feel spreading across their face as they ran, knowing that anyone who opposed them would never see them again. Or their valuables.  


The target of tonight’s raid: the prince’s engagement ring. To be quite honest, the only reason they stole this particular object was their small crush on the crown prince. His to-be fiancèe was honestly a drag, but they “loved” each other (in the closed-off way that only royals can pull off convincingly), and they knew that the prince himself would be leading the investigation, once he knew it was gone. They hoped it would be like the romance books they read as a teen --the prince would be so heartbroken that he’d head the investigation himself, and the two would soon fall in love-- but it was too dangerous. That plan would involve staying through the investigation, and that was risky. Too risky. They had to leave, they couldn’t fall in love.  


They felt their feet slow on the hard ground. They were probably far enough away now. They could sit, rest, contemplate their next move. Particularly what city they thought they'd be moving to this time to sell the ring. They pulled a map out of an otherwise unnoticeable pocket and set it carefully on the ground at their feet.  
Aurelia looked nice-- no, that was out; they’d been busted there before. They were in Myceriin, and Fantom was too far. Phireen was a haven for people like them, he’d give up before he even got near where they would be staying. Cameroon was near perfect, except they’d been banished.  


The idea resurfaced to just stay here in Myceriin. It’d take him a while due to the population but just enough time that he’d find them before he got too discouraged. They knew an innkeeper downtown.  


They smiled secretly to themselves. It wasn’t perfect, but it was the best they had, and that was all they needed.

It was midnight before the thief flopped down on their bed. A late night, again. This probably wasn’t very good for their health. They reached into their pocket, pulled out the ring, and stared at it for a while, rolling it between their fingers and examining it.  


It was quite beautiful, and very well made, they had to admit. Diamonds and other precious jewels almost covered every square inch of the thing, and it had to be worth more than the thief’s entire life. It made them slightly sad, knowing that this ring was not for them, and the only reason they were holding it now was that they stole it.  


It could have been very different. There was some choice they had made in the past that had led the gods to change their destiny. The thief could have been in the prince’s arms by now, except they weren’t. It was some random woman probably secretly chosen by his parents to satisfy some inner desire of theirs.  


The thief mulled that over in their brain for a while, inching onto the bed to become more comfortable as they did. What if the prince wasn’t the heterosexual heir he was supposed to be, and so his parents had chosen the woman they thought would most appeal to the general public? What if the prince knew who they were, and wanted them? What if?  


They managed to lull themselves to sleep thinking about themselves, curled up in the prince’s arms, the pair draped dramatically across one of the prince’s many sofas, chatting and sharing the occasional forehead or temple kiss. It was a blissful fantasy, one that they were sure would never come true but were all too happy to indulge themselves in for the time being.

Morning came too quickly for the thief’s liking, but it was out of their control. They heaved themselves out of bed and a steamy daydream. It was then that they realized that they had nothing to wear. They didn’t have much, and anything they didn’t need was left behind at their house in Phireen. They groaned at the thought of having to go shopping. Their movement throughout the room was almost snail-like, and it took them longer than it should have to finally pull on the near-pristine castle uniform from last night.  
They finally managed to drag themselves out of the room and into the doorframe, pausing on the threshold. They looked both ways down the hall, trying not to run into any doors or soldiers. They decided the coast was clear, stepped into the hallway, and had not gotten ten feet when they ran face-first into the next room over’s door. They almost immediately fell to the floor in surprise and pain.  


A woman, judging by the sound of heels clicking, ran over and gripped their shoulders.  


“Sweet Araemiea, are you alright?”  


They slowly raised their head, gripping it in pain, and nodded. They’d gotten hurt much worse than this before, they’d live. There was nothing to worry about, they assured her.  


She helped them to their feet and, after too much reassurance from them, hesitantly allowed them to go on their way.  
Myceriin was infinitely prettier when one doesn’t have a mild concussion. Foundations of stone and newer construction made of glass and ‘crystal’ soared to the dizzying heights of the bright blue-green sky. All around them, women in massive hoop skirts, drizzled with gold, and men in ridiculously expensive breeches and vests bustled about, running into them and knocking them about in all directions.  


It honestly made them nauseous to see all this wealth in one place when they knew there were people in the countryside struggling to pay for sreraseed. Another reason why they became a thief- they wanted to be considered their version of Robin Hood. They wanted to snatch all of this money, the jewels, the silver, the moraeus, all of it, they wanted to take it so that no one would have to suffer. They’d been radicalized by many things, but the gap between the richest of the rich and the poorest of the poor was the thing they hated the most.  


They managed to weave their way out of uptown and into the area that was considered to be the slums of Myceriin. There, the glass spires were a world away, and the buildings were made of lumber. The people made them want to snap their neck slightly less, so that was a bonus, they guessed.  


Plus, everything costs less.  


There were no clothing stores in the part of town they had wandered into, so they spent the rest of their morning trying to find one. They eventually stumbled upon a thrift store -the best kind- and their afternoon was blown on modelling in the floor-to-ceiling mirror in one of the aisles.  


They ended up spending around ninety moraeus. The inn’s finest bed creaked as they flopped down on it, having made good use of the phrase ‘shop till you drop’. They were content for one of the first times in their life, but certainly not the last. Their purchases were now scattered across the floor in torn papyrus bags, colourful garments bringing light to the rapidly darkening room. Their daydreams soothed the ebbing and flowing of their still-active brain, and they drifted quietly into sleep for now.


	2. Proposal?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> meet our love interest! we like him :)

The prince paced about his room. Today was the day-or night, really. He was going to propose!  


Propose. Yeah. That. To be completely honest, he didn’t much care for his to-be fiancee. She was boring, and he knew the only reason they were together was his parents. It was arranged.  


He was tired. Not just physically, it was nearly eleven, but emotionally, of her. He was tired of trying to fake love. He wanted something different. Something more exciting, someone more exciting.  


He knew the ring was gone. He knew that she wouldn’t care, that she was going to marry him anyway, and he was going to be stuck with someone he didn’t love, hell, didn’t even like for the rest of his life.  


He also knew that he didn’t have a choice. He was going to propose, and that was going to be his life, tied up nice and neat with a royal purple ribbon. She wanted this. Anyone would. To “capture the attention” of the crown fucking prince was a dream come true for any woman ever.  


Two soft knocks on the door.  


“Casriel?” His bride-to-be.  


“Yes, love?”  


The door opened and she slipped in. He should be happy. He should worship the ground she walks on, and yet he doesn’t, because he can’t. He doesn’t know how. Someone could teach him, but he doesn’t want to learn just yet. He wants to wait, he’s going to wait, and he’ll know when he needs to learn. That time is not right now.  


She senses the worry in his eyes, or his expression, or the way he’s holding himself. She cares about him, so why can’t he reciprocate?  


“Are you alright, dear?” Her voice penetrates his wondering sharply, though she’s barely speaking above a whisper.  


“I’m fine.”  


He isn’t fine.  


“Your mother said you had something you wanted to talk with me about?” Her volume is the same, but it seems louder as she glides across the room towards him, a small smile ghosting her face.  


She knows. She knows what he needs to ask. She doesn’t know that he doesn’t want to.  


“There is.” Her face lights up. She definitely knows. He drops hesitantly to one knee, and though she can’t sense it, he’s dying inside. One hand goes to her mouth in a half-hearted attempt to seem surprised by this.  


“Will you marry me, Lilli?”  


His voice is dead and monotonous. She doesn’t know the pain he’s going through, and if she did, she’s choosing to ignore it. She comes closer to him and falls onto her haunches before him.  


“Yes!” Her smile is wide, she’s crying ever so slightly, and he’s dying. He’s watching his life slip from his palms, and he’s the reason behind it. He feels a fake smile tug at the edges of his lips as he captures her body in a loose embrace.  


He goes to open the ring box, left forgotten in one of his hands, but she gets there first. He almost makes a noise of protest, but it’s swallowed by a gasp from his fiancee.  


She wrenches the box out of his hand, angrily searching it for a hidden compartment, some kind of sign that this is a prank, a joke, anything. He shifts his position to mimic hers for comfort. He read somewhere that mimicry is a sign of love, and he wants to sell this as best he can.  


For his sake. For her sake. For the kingdom’s sake.  


She finds nothing and stands in her rage.  


“There’s nothing here, Casriel.”  


“No?”  


“No. You tricked me!” He’s on his feet now too, trying desperately to calm her down.  


“Lilli, what are you-” She throws the box at him and he scrabbles to pick it up.  


“It’s empty, you fucking monster!”  


“Dearest, I-”  


She’s already halfway to the corridor and he knows she isn’t listening. He isn’t going to try to make her if she doesn’t want to. His head drops down, staring at his feet, trying to seem as if he’s feeling even an ounce of remorse for the situation he’d gotten himself into.  


He knows she’ll be back tomorrow. She’s too smart to give up an opportunity like this. Even if she gave in to an impulse, his parents would bribe her into staying. He wasn’t getting rid of her anytime soon unless he hired an assassin.  


He glanced around the room, trying to find something to fixate on until his brain stopped working. Until he couldn't think properly. His eyes found the clock, rapidly approaching eleven-fifteen. He wandered over to one of the fireside chairs, eyes focused on the arms of the device. He fell asleep there hours later, soothed by the rhythmic movement of the hands and the slow passing of time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> these chapters are really short but i promise the end product will be ridiculously long just hang on :)


	3. Chapter 3

The thief woke up the next morning with a strange feeling in their gut. It wasn’t good either, they realized, and they had the sneaking suspicion something bad was going to happen today. Their gut was almost always right, it was nearly a sixth sense at this point.

Sure enough, a few hours after they’d decided to stay at the inn for safety, royal guards came pounding on the inn’s door while they were drinking at the bar.  


“We need to search all of the tenants and their rooms. Now.”  


“I’m afraid I can’t allow you to do that, sir. My tenants have a right to their privacy.” the innkeeper said, not looking up from the glass she was polishing.  


The guard that had spoken before came over and pulled the innkeeper up by her collar with one fist.  


“Listen here, little lady. I don’t give two shits about your tenants’ rights. I honestly want to burn this place to the ground, but that would get me fired. So you-” he whipped his head around to look at the rest of the room “and this goes for the rest of you too- are going to tell me exactly what you know about the missing ring.”  


The thief inhaled very sharply at this, and the guard noticed. “You wanna go first?”  


Sure, they signed.   


“Quit waving your hands about and tell me!” he said, face merely inches away from their own, spit flying into their eyes.   


“They can’t, ya big oaf! Now put. Me. Down.” the innkeeper said, swinging about in the guard’s grip. He dropped her onto the floor, his eyes never leaving their own.   


“What do you mean, you can't?”  


Mute. “They’re mute.”  


The other visitors had fled by now, and the other guard was standing awkwardly at the door.  


“What do you know about the missing ring?”  


What ring? “‘What ring?’”  


“The prince’s engagement ring has gone missing. What do you know about this?”  


The prince is getting engaged? “‘The prince is getting engaged?’”  


“You shut your trap.”  


“I’m translating!” the innkeeper protested.  


“Fine. Not anymore, considering the ring is missing. I’m going to ask you one more time, do you know anything about the missing engagement ring?”   


They ‘thought’ for a minute just to piss the guard off. Nope! they signed with a big grin on their face. “‘Nope.’ Except make it happy.”   


The guard let out one of the biggest sighs the thief had ever heard. “I need to search you and your room.”  


Ok. “‘Okay.’”  


The guard turned around, almost surprised to find an empty inn, then sighed again. He turned back to the innkeeper and thief. “What room are you in, punk?”   


The innkeeper answered before they could. “210B.” The thief was confused for a moment, considering there was no room 210B, but they decided they’d better go along with it, lest they get caught.  


The ring wasn’t in their room anyways; it was in the inside pocket of their undershirt, sewn-in manually post-purchase. It was a very useful place to hide things, especially small daggers and tiny treasures like lockets and small pictures. They nodded in consistency with the innkeeper’s lie, and the two guards left the main room in search of the thief’s.   


The innkeeper sat back down and picked up her glass again.   


“You stole the ring, didn’t you?” she said, more of a statement than a question. It took them a second to switch from the common tongue to their native language, but they caught on eventually. A nod was all she needed to start chuckling. “You sneaky little bastard.” The thief was smiling now too, and the two took a minute of silence during which she picked up another glass and they finished their drink.  


Their quiet moment was suddenly and rudely interrupted by the two guards huffing and puffing down the stairs. The pure metal suits of armour they wore couldn’t have been good for their stamina.  


“You mad woman! You lied to us!” the bigger one, who happened to be the one who was interrogating the two managed.  


“I have no earthly idea what you’re talking about.” she lilted, still not looking up from her work.  


“There is no room 210B, is there?”  


The innkeeper smiled mischievously. “Nope!” If the guard’s face was visible, the thief was sure it would be as red as an onic with rage. The innkeeper smiled wider at this, clearly enjoying her activities. She still hadn’t looked up from her glass, and they were wondering if she would ever- oh no, she’s got another one now. If the thief wasn’t potentially facing death right now, they’d watch her for hours.  


Unfortunately, the price for thievery was hanging.  


“I’ll come back tomorrow,” he managed through clenched teeth, “when you’re ready to be honest with me.”  


“You do that.”  


With that, he turned and left, clearly annoyed by everything around him, and slammed the door behind him. As if on cue, the innkeeper started cackling wildly, and the thief joined her once they realized why she was laughing.   


“We- haha! We got ‘em good, didn’t we?” That was all she could say before she burst into a round of roaring laughter, not realizing that she and they were the only two left in the inn. Once she managed to calm down, she did and cursed the guards worse than any of the sailors the thief had ever encountered.   


“They scared all my customers away, those slippery, slimy, disgusting bastards!”   


Maybe they’ll come back, they signed, hoping the innkeeper was looking at their hands.  


“Like hell, they’ll come back,” she growled and leaned back in her chair. “They don’t wanna be falsely hung, the cowards.” She rose from her chair and began to pour herself a drink. “I honestly don’t care whether they choose to stay here or not,” she sat back in her chair, “it’s their choice. They chose to stay here, and that’s what Kismyet decided was gonna happen today. Anyways,” she leaned forward, closer to the thief, “why’d ya steal the ring, kid?”  


The thief simply smiled and took another sip of their drink.   


“Just cause?”  


They shook their head no. There’s definitely a reason, they signed, then paused. Did they want to tell her? Was it something that could be trusted to her, or anyone?   


“What is it? If you’re comfy telling me, that is.” They shook their head again. She nodded and took a long drag from a cigarette that had magically appeared in her hands while they were zoned out. “That’s cool. You're entitled to your privacy.”   


They stood just a bit too quickly and had to lean on the bar for stability while spots danced across their eyes. After a while, they recovered and got about thirty steps away from their stool before they decided that they’d stay with the innkeeper.


	4. Chapter 4

The prince had paced around his room so much in the past few days that the carpet was starting to wear down. He’s been in such a state of stress since the ring was stolen that that was the only thing he’d been able to think about for that time. He’d dreamed about the ring, he couldn’t read any of his books due to the pure, unrequited anxiety he has about it.  


He was desperate for any kind of news about its whereabouts.  


So, naturally, he was just a tiny bit mad when his guards had turned up empty-handed.   


It's not like he shouldn’t be. It was expensive, and the future of the nation kind of depended on it. But… it was like he was mad and he wasn’t at the same time. He wanted the ring, that was for sure, but he didn’t want it for the reasons that his parents wanted it. The entire world, for the gods’ sake, wanted it for the exact opposite reasons that he did, but he had to want it for those reasons. He couldn’t want it for love, because the love that he wanted wouldn’t get them anywhere.   


Two knocks on the door, just like last time.  


“Casriel?” It was Lilli, for the first time in forever. She hadn’t talked to him since the fight over the ring three days ago. He’d assumed she’d left, and was very surprised when she knocked.   


“Let yourself in,” he called, and she did, closing the door softly behind her.  


Something was off. She moved quicker than normal, and she was tense. She wasn’t wearing much makeup- at least on the portion of her face that he could see out of the corner of his eye. Her hair was wild and mostly unbrushed, or at least very hastily. She was either nervous about something or extremely upset.   


She reached him abnormally fast and he turned towards her with a mixture of worry and surprise in her.  


“We need to talk.”  


He visibly tensed at this.   


“We do.” She seemed unhappy about needing to be here. That made him happy for some reason knowing that she wasn’t hounding him and that he wasn’t obligated to try to please or placate her.   


A sharp inhale. “Your mother told me about your… condition.” Uh oh.  


“What condition are you referring to, my lady?” Maybe, just maybe, if he played the dull-polite card, she’d leave him alone. He also genuinely wondered what she was going on about.   


“You know, your… preferences when it comes to lovers.”  


Oh. He was hoping she wouldn’t find out. He tilted his head, hoping she’d give a little bit of context.  


Another tight breath. “When I left the room after you ‘proposed’,” she made air quotes, indicating she hadn’t taken it seriously, “I ran to your mother, hoping she could comfort me. She sat me down with a cup of tea and told me why you were and had been, so distant from me.”  


She’d noticed. This made him happy for some reason.  


“She told me that you didn’t want to hurt me, and I asked her why.” She was breathing slower now, a good sign. It should have comforted him, to see her edging away from tears, but it didn’t, because he didn’t love her. He didn’t see her even as a friend.  


“She said,” and the prince was jerked away from his thoughts, “that you didn’t love me. Obviously, I didn't believe her at first, considering you’ve told me you love me more times than I can count, but she shut me down. She told me that…” She didn’t finish the sentence before she burst into tears.   


The prince wished he could comfort her. He could, but there would be no emotion behind it, and before he could fake it, but she knew now. All he could do sincerely was place a hand on her back and say,  


“I’m sorry.”  


She looked up at him. “You don’t need to be.”  


“But I do.” He couldn’t even look at her now, instead turning away to look out the massive windows showing clear blue skies, sans the black storm clouds gathering on the horizon. “I lied to you.”  


“That doesn’t mean anything.”  


“Yes, it does. I lied to you, I lied to my people, I lied to the country, I lied to myself, godsdamnit!” He slammed his fist on the windowpane he had migrated towards. Lilli, behind him, let out a small gasp at the rattling noise it made and stepped back. “I feel terrible, Lilli, and you should hate me. I’m a monster.”  


“No, you aren’t.” That was the first time he’d ever heard that phrase about the current topic. “You’re entitled to your happiness,” she said, voice growing stronger with every word, “and I’m not going to try and take that away from you. So, I’m leaving.”  


“You can’t do that!”  


“I can, and I’m going to. I’m not leaving the castle, and we’ll still have to keep up the charade that we’re together-” he let a small groan slip at that. “I know, I’m going to hate it too. But it’s necessary, and you’ll be able to go gallivanting off with whoever you desire, as long as you don’t get caught.”  


Caught. That was exactly why he didn’t want this to happen. He wanted to be able to live a normal life with his partner, and with Lilli, he could have that. With the people he wanted Lilli to be replaced by, not so much. He could do whatever he wanted if it fell into the accepted categories.  


That had been his whole life. Everything he knew was controlled by someone or something, and he hated it. But that was the way life was. Controlled by an unseen power, dictated by the gods’ or your parents’ or your leaders’ wills. He’d vowed to change that when he was younger, but now he saw that some things were better controlled. Kept in check, balanced, controlled.   


His thoughts shifted from her words to her implications. She knew that he was going to propose to her but she couldn’t pick up on the obvious signs he was laying down for her about this? Then again, she’d probably been told about the proposal. His slippery parents, too.  


He was interrupted by Lilli waving her hand in front of his face. “Myceriin to Casriel, come in, Casriel,” she lilted, scrunching his cheeks in one hand. “We’re not done here, mon ami,”  


“Oh yeah?”  


“Yeah,” The prince was caught off guard by her response. “I’m a lesbian.”   


He was thoroughly and utterly confused.  


“What's that,” he deadpanned, basically unable to show any emotion due to dissociation.   


“Means I like women, Cas,” she did a little groove in her spot, pursing her lips.   


“Oh. I don’t.”  


She gasped sarcastically widely. “How dare you, Casriel.”  


He shrugged, noting that they were joking about now.   


“Eh. More for me.”  


“And more men for me.” She giggled and intensified her groove.   


They stayed like that for a while, chatting and laughing overly too loud, probably attracting the attention of every servant in a mile radius (yes, the castle is that big). The two talked well into the night, watching the sunset and building themselves.  



End file.
